Original Correspondence
by seacam87
Summary: Dean decides on an unusual method of contacting a girl he met in a bar in Austin. One shot.


_Disclaimer_

Dear Eric Kripke,

Sam and Dean dropped by the other night and requested that we write a short story about them. We tried to tell them that it was an impossible task, but, quite frankly, they intimidated us with their shotguns and their devastating good looks. They were quite insistent, and, after Sam gave us his puppy dog look, we couldn't help but agree. Hope you don't mind.

P.S. We are eagerly anticipating the third season of _Supernatural_.

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A light breeze blew through the open windows of the Winchester's '67 Chevy Impala as they drove down a scenic two lane road in the Texas Hill Country.

Dean smiled contentedly and, turning to his brother, said "Today's such a nice day, don'tcha think, Sammy?"

"Don't call me Sammy," Sam snapped back. There was a brief pause before he added, "Why are you so happy, anyway?"

"Hey! Look at that pond up ahead!" Dean said excitedly, disregarding Sam's question. Without another word, Dean pulled off the road and got out of the car.

"Dean, what the hell…" Sam trailed off as he watched Dean settle onto a bench beside the water's edge. Sighing and muttering to himself, Sam reluctantly got up and followed his brother.

Dean looked up and smiled as Sam sat down next to him. "This weather makes me feel contemplative."

Sam looked over at him in bewilderment.

"Are you my brother, or did he get left behind in that bar in Austin?"

As if he couldn't hear Sam, Dean pulled a slip of paper out of his jacket pocket. Sam looked over warily. "What's that?" he asked.

"Remember last night when I was talking to that girl in the bar?" Dean started.

"Which one?"

"You know, the hot one."

Sam looked over at his brother questioningly.

"You know, the one by the pool table…. She was wearing a red shirt."

"Oh, ok," Sam replied, nodding. "What about her?"

"Well… I didn't get her number…." Dean began hesitantly.

"Then what's that on that piece of paper?" Sam interrupted.

"She gave me her address instead," Dean replied. He paused, nodding to himself. "I think I'll write her a letter."

"What?!"

"You know, a letter. You get a pen and paper and write down words…."

Sam leaned over and punched Dean on the shoulder. "I don't think that's the reason she gave you her address, man," he said sarcastically.

Dean smiled to himself self-consciously. "Yeah, you're probably right, but this is so much more… original."

"Dude, what's wrong with you?"

"What do you mean, Sammy?"

"Never mind."

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Two hours later…

"Are you done writing that letter yet?" Sam asked in irritation. He had officially finished throwing all of the pebbles into the pond and had only succeeded in skipping five of them.

"I just finished it," Dean replied, triumphantly holding the completed product up for Sam to see. "Now I just need to mail it," he said with a dreamy look on his face. Dean looked around absentmindedly as if expecting to see a post office appear out of thin air.

Luckily, Sam intervened. "Dude, the post office isn't at the pond. We have to go into town to mail it."

"Oh. Right. I knew there was a reason I dragged you outta college."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Let's go."

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Fifteen minutes later, the Winchester brothers pulled up in front of the Bastrop Post Office.

Dean opened his door to get out, but Sam reached over to stop him. "Wait. Maybe I should go in with you," he said with a concerned look on his face.

"Man, I know how to mail a letter!" Dean exclaimed in frustration. He got out of the car and slammed the door shut. Sam followed close behind anyway.

Dean ambled into the post office and looked around for the outgoing mail slot. Spotting it in a corner, he hurried over and dropped his carefully-written letter inside.

"Feel better now?" Sam asked, smirking.

Dean turned around to reply but was cut off by the clerk behind the counter.

"Hey, you guys wouldn't happen to be Sam and Dean Winchester, would'ja?" the white-haired man asked, peering out at them from behind his thick bifocals.

"That'd be us," Dean answered, stepping up to the clerk confidently.

"Thank God you've finally come!" the clerk exclaimed as he smacked his hand on the countertop. "We've got a couple tons of mail for you two. Been waitin' months for you to show up."

"You have?" "What do you mean?" Dean and Sam said simultaneously.

"Sure do. Wait here," and with that, the clerk disappeared into a back room.

Sam turned to Dean. "We've never been here before. How do they know who we are?" he asked.

"Who cares? We've got mail!" Dean cried enthusiastically.

"You don't think this is just a little bit weird?" Sam questioned nervously.

"Aw, come on, man. Don't look a gift horse in the mouth," Dean quipped.

"I cannot believe you just said that," Sam groaned just as the clerk returned, dragging a huge bag of mail behind him. "All this is ours?" Sam asked incredulously.

"Yep, and I've got a couple more in the back, too," the clerk replied, grinning. With that, he left the brothers alone with their mail and vanished once again into the mail room. For an old man, he certainly was very agile.

Dean tore into the bag gleefully and then stopped short. "Sammy, what's that smell?" he asked, wrinkling his nose in distaste.

Sam pulled out a bright pink envelope and sniffed it gingerly. "I think it's perfume."

"Dude, are they all like that?"

"Yeah..." Sam looked down at the address on the letter. "Man, this is addressed to 'The Two Hottest Guys in the World.' Let's get out of here."

The brothers dashed out of the post office, fear etched on their faces. They wrenched open the doors to their car and sped away without a backward glance.

Back on the road toward Austin, Dean remarked thoughtfully, "Maybe writing a letter wasn't as original as I thought."


End file.
